Second Chance
by Freya Bobbissimo
Summary: 1x2x1 shounenai not really that angsty, just somber Duo apologizes to Heero after a huge argument.


Title: Second Chance

Rated: PG-13

Warnings: Shounen-ai.

Pairing: Heero/Duo

Disclaimer: GW belongs to it's respective owner(s).

000 

"What's this?"

Duo's eyes averted toward the window. "It's the only nice looking thing I could find outside of this crappy apartment."

I observed the small weed he handed to me, and wondered how he got it. Maintance mowed the lawn just a few hours ago; they never miss a thing. He must've made quite an effort to get it before they did.

I have always been fond of dandelions; I only wish I could've kept the one that little girl gave me. But, like people, flowers do eventually die out. I wish she could've outlived it. 

Duo started shifting awkwardly. I know he has something on his mind.

I've often tried figuring out the way he thinks. Duo doesn't like living here; that was certainly apparent. It actually happened to be the root of our previous argument.

That particular brawl lead to dead silence between the two of us, and it lasted for nearly three days. He'd always hidden the fact that this place bothered him, and never told me.

He'll sacrifice his own comfort for others. I guess he assumed I loved this place, considering how close it is to work, and how hard I worked on fixing the pluming while he did the furnace.

He could've said the word, and we would've dropped this place like a bomb. There are plenty of places we can go, and yet he chose to stay quiet about one that genuinely bothered him.

Relena blames it on his love for me; Trowa did the same. They picked now of all times to contact me via e-mail and ask me how my life is going.

Maybe I should check my inbox now and see if they've got anything else to say about this little mishap.

I never realized just how much of an enigma he could be, before we got this place. There's a lot about Duo Maxwell I didn't know, until our recent brawl. Apparently, the apartment's too much of a fire hazard, but aren't they all? He calls it a fire hazard, I call it a blast from the past.

He "creatively" admitted that, about two or three hours into it, by blaming the wind and the tree branches out back, otherwise known as, our next door neighbor, who happens to be an active prostitute.

I'll bet that's how Jimbo gets his rent paid.

I've had particularly loud neighbors myself, whenever Odin and I set camp near some cheap hotel. Once I asked what the strange noises coming from some of the rooms were, and the next night, we set camp by a strip joint. You'd be surprised how bold people can be, especially when a half a gallon of liquid courage is bottled up in their system.

You'll also be surprised how unpleasant it is to watch a woman vomit on herself while her boyfriend is plowing in and out of her. That's right, plowing.

That was the one, and only, visual sex lesson Odin ever gave me. I was sorry I asked.

I'll bet no one knows that Duo and I are still virgins.

"You have nothing to apologize about," I said simply, and stroked the stem of the flower gently. We really should find a new place to live. Somewhere that isn't cheap; somewhere that doesn't have "branches" slapping against the "walls" every damn night. Maybe we'd get the chance to make our own noise, some day, when we're no longer greeted with the unpleasant racket of others. 

"Yeah, I do." He placed his hand on my shoulder and sighed. It was a pretty heated argument. Everything from ghosts, to airplanes, to canned corn was brought up... well, those are the ones that stick out the most. It sounds so silly now, and we'll probably be laughing about it five years from now.

He felt guilty about not liking this place, and probably still does. However, we have moved on from the past. He's been living right here in the present with me, for the most part, but ghosts from the past come to haunt him every now and then. Happens to everyone; he's just too stubborn to admit it most of the time.

I set the flower in the small glass of water I'd forgotten to drink in the heat of my former mood. I thought the drink would calm my nerves a little, but I ended up ignoring it completely.

For the first time in three days, he smiled at me.

"I guess that means I get a second chance?" I cupped the hand that never left my shoulder, and met him half way with a smile of my own.

"You'll always have a second chance."

End


End file.
